The Spark
by Mockingjay.Werewolf
Summary: (ONE-SHOT) Minho has always been more than a good friend to Newt. The spark that Minho feels for Newt goes further beyond friendship. When Alby, Thomas and Minho gets trapped in the Maze, Newt feels his world crumbling. For Minho it's one night in the horrible Maze. For Newt it's one agonizing night of waiting. For both, it's one big acknowledgement of the spark they both feel.


**The Spark**

_**Minho's POV:**_

One stolen glance from his watch told Minho that he wouldn't make it. Just a few more minutes, he prayed silently in his head. It was hard enough running through the maze without Alby in tow. Alby had been stung by a Griever, of all things that could go wrong.

So Minho ran, darting left and right, navigating his way through the maze that he was so familiar with already. His only goal was to get Alby out of the maze before the doors closed. They were done for if they were trapped in this maze, Minho knew that much.

Keep going, he told himself. Not for himself, or Alby, but for Newt. Newt who had lost so much, Newt whom he couldn't risk losing. No, he could lose his memories, he could lose Alby, but not Newt. As for Newt, well, Newt couldn't lose Alby or himself, they needed to watch over him, make sure he didn't pull that suicide stunt again.

The doors were in sight, and closing. Minho was too tired to curse out loud but a very long string of curses were going through his head.

The closer he got to the doors, he saw Thomas and Chuck in front, along with Newt. They were waiting. He was too far away to see Newt's expression but he would've sworn Newt's expression was a twisted mix of hope and despair.

The doors were going to close now. Minho could feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins, he yelled, willing his already worn out legs to run faster. But he knew deep down, it was too late. This would be the end of Minho and Alby.

He was really starting to hate the maze, if he could hate it any more.

His vision was starting to blur, too exhausted from running and carrying Alby. Then he saw, what was possibly the bravest and most stupid act of his life, Thomas dashed into the maze, he heard shouts of horror, he heard Newt's voice.

Then the doors closed.

_**Newt's POV:**_

Too much, it was all too much for Newt to bear.

Seeing Alby and Minho running back, seeing the doors closing. Alby and Minho just a dot in the distance. He prayed Minho could run faster. Faster, just a bit faster. Even when the doors were almost closed, deep down there was a spark of hope, maybe they could make it.

But in reality, he knew they weren't going to make it, he watched the gap as it became narrower and narrower, his hope shrinking and shrinking, preparing himself for the horrible truth. His heart was racing, he couldn't lose Minho or Alby. True, Minho was a sarcastic shuck-face and Alby could be a pain, but still, they had been through so much together. He could lose his memories, his past, everything. Anything but them.

And then at the last-minute, Thomas, with one great leap of courage slipped through the gap and into the maze. Newt felt his heart contract. Not Thomas, not all three of them at once.

The bloody doors closed with a spark of hope in Newt went out.

'Come back,' Newt whispered. Even as he said it he knew he sounded pathetic. It wasn't as if the trio would magically appear in front of him, unscathed and smiling. As much as he hoped they would, all he could do was wait. Wait until the doors opened again. Wait for agonizing, sleepless hours.

They weren't sleepless, but unfortunately they weren't dreamless either. He dreamt of a hundred ways he could lose Minho. He woke up after every nightmare, only to fall back to sleep and taken into another horrific one.

Finally, he gave up, he spent most of his morning staring at the doors. Many times willing them to open, willing them to move. Just when he felt he had no more brainpower, not that he had much in the first place, he glanced at his watch.

Five minutes, five minutes until the doors would finally open.

During the first minutes, he started at the doors, maybe the five minutes would fly by, maybe the doors would open and he would see Minho.

Another glance at his watch, four minutes left. He felt like kicking himself.

He resumed his staring position, then he realized. He was mostly waiting for Minho, not Alby, not Thomas, Minho. The saying 'Don't know what you have until it's gone' occurred to him, Minho was a good friend, but then he thought of the innocent and accidental touches, the mere act of skin brushing against skin, the tiny electrical shock Newt had passed off as nerves or a figment of his imagination.

Two minutes, the doors were starting to creak. Newt's head snapped up, alert. Two bloody minutes, the most antagonizing minutes of his life.

Maybe it wasn't just a figment of his imagination, maybe it was real. Newt could felt his elevated pulse, beating way faster than usual. Nerves, just nerves.

One minute left. The Runners were getting ready to go back into the maze. The Gladers were getting ready for their respective jobs.

The doors opened, but no Alby, no Thomas. Not even Minho. He checked every door twice just to make sure, not bothering to hide his panic. Newt felt his heart fall into a deep dark abyss, dead, his friends were dead.

Then he checked the West door and saw two moving dots in the distance.

_**Minho's POV:**_

Newt and a group of Gladers had gathered at the West door, quite the welcome party, Minho thought to himself. Newt looked like he was enraged and overjoyed at the same time as he limped over. Minho was relieved, he made it, one night in the Maze.

He felt like he could fly, he was definitely too tired to break into a run but at the last few feet he did, leaving Thomas behind, all thoughts about anything else disappeared. Newt's face was one of rage and relief as he hugged Minho.

Minho was clinging onto Newt's body for dear life, he was exhausted, every last bit of adrenaline knocked out of him. Then he remembered Alby and pulled away. 'Alby, we have to-' he started to say between breaths. But he was cut off by Newt pressing his lips against his.

At first there was confusion, Minho's head was too worn out to think. It took a while for it to sink in. Newt was kissing him.

His mind woke up, he noticed everything at once. How Newt's hands were on his cheeks, cupping his face. How his own hands hand found their way around Newt's waist. Most importantly, how he was kissing Newt back. The Creators could control the Maze, could control their memories, their lives, everything. But they couldn't control the spark Minho felt for Newt. The spark that would turn into an inferno sooner or later.

Even after they broke apart from the kiss that seemed like several days, Minho felt the tingling sensation all over his body, like he had been electrocuted. Maybe the spark was already kindled into a flame.

But for now he had to keep that spark under control, there were other things at hand. First order of business, get the cheering and whooping Gladers out of the way.


End file.
